This Time Too Late
by theonlywater
Summary: 'She shouted, but they never came.' Amy is in trouble- and her boys arrive too late. Can they patch her up? What might have happened if Isabella hadn't released Amy from the chair, in Vampires of Venice. Explicit themes: Abuse, Sexual Assault. A/U.
1. When Silence Greets Waiting Ears

**A/N: Set In Vampires of Venice. Alternate Ending. **

**AU. What would of happened, in my mind, if Isabella hadn't released Amy from that chair. **

**I've been thinking about writing a story like this for a while, and when this plot bunny hit me in the middle of the night, I had to write it down!**

**WARNING: Very Dark. Explicit themes: Assault, Abuse, Rape. Don't carry on if it isn't your thing.**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, or any of it's characters or themes. I'm just a fan.**_

**Hope you enjoy it, tell me what you think, I'll update soon!**

**-oOo-**

She knew it was his voice, the Doctor's voice, even through the hazy fog threatening to smother her. They had come for her. The Doctor and Rory. Her boys. She shook her arms violently, the shackles cutting into her wrists.

She called their names, desperately, her voice cracking from dehydration, her throat protesting against the grating sound. Footsteps retreated into the distance. Still she struggled, until crimson beads seeped out from under her restraints, and the tang of iron pervaded her mouth. Still she screamed, until the shadowy figure that had appeared in the doorway stepped into the light.

"Why don't you be a good little girl and quieten down? You wouldn't want to upset mummy, now, would you?"

"Let me go, you phsycopath!" she screamed, though she knew that would never work. Francesco's eyes flashed, his mouth contorting into a scowl.

"Sorry," he whispered, "did you mishear me?"

He slowly advanced, lining his eyes up with hers, centimetres from her face.

"Or did you just ignore me?"

His hands shot to her wrists, swiftly undoing the cuffs and sharply pulling on her already cut arms, forcing her to stand, despite her spinning head. He jerked her around, slamming her into the wall, then he stabbed his teeth into her neck. She screamed, but lack of blood meant she couldn't defend herself. She sagged in his death grip, limp against the wall, head pounding.

He finally withdrew, gazing at her with cold and frighteningly lustful eyes. She stared back, as defiantly as she could. Her throat screamed with every breath, but she couldn't just let him get away with it.

"It doesn't frighten me. You don't own me." she spat.

"Oh, but I will." he breathed, drawing back.

The arm holding her weight withdrew as another slammed into her temple, throwing her to a crumpled heap on the floor. She frantically tried to curl her sluggish limbs into her body, but her leg was caught in a tight grip and yanked backwards, dragging her twenty metres across the jagged stone floor through an archway into a small dark sharp stones ripped her nightgown, and tore into her scrabbling hands. She was abruptly dropped, and for a second all she could do was watch as rivulets of crimson trickled down her arm and pooled in a crevice in the flag stone.

Viciously, a boot pounded into her stomach, then another, and another. She grunted in pain each time, a breathless sob escaping her lips. A hand grabbed her arm, digging into her flesh and pulling her over to lie flat on her back. This was wrong. The Doctor should be here to save her. She needed him. She didn't want this monster anywhere near her. She just wanted the pain to stop.

But it didn't. The blows kept on coming, relentlessly, mercilessly. A fist glanced her face, another catching her square in the eye. Boots rained down on her stomach and chest. Each hit forced another groan of pain out from her lips. It fuelled him, each blow becoming harder as the moans became more frantic. She sobbed, breaths catching in her throat, chest heaving, as the dry sounds echoed around the small chamber.

Francesco snarled, the sound resonating in her ears. he ripped at her already shredded dress, exposing her to this horrible, terrible creature. A sickening grin curled around his mouth, as he gripped her struggling hips and pinned her to the ground. She was shaking now, her whole body wracked with the all consuming sobs, the moans emitting from her mouth high and panicked. She had no strength left to fight. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop him.

" Did you like that? Did you?" he snarled, his lips dripping with hatred and crazed lust.

"It's time to make sure you're mine, forever."

His heels ground into her legs, and his hands flew to unfasten his robes before pounding into her shoulders, pushing them back onto the ground, her head following, and hitting the stone with a dull clunk.

He couldn't do this. She couldn't let him. But she didn't have a choice. What did that make her? She thought about the disgust that would surely be in the Doctor's eyes, that would be etched into Rory's face, if they ever found out. No one would love her, or want her, after this. They couldn't.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and bit down hard on her tongue, drawing blood, as he roughly trust himself inside her.

"Please..." she sobbed. She just wanted him to stop.

He growled, and brutally thrust again, the friction excruciating. Amy wanted to be sick. He grunted on top of her, repeating this action, more and more violently, until with a final snarl, climaxed inside her.

He fell onto her, crushing the wind out of her broken body, abruptly cutting off her sobs. As she desperately tried to force the air back into her body, to slow the hyperventilation that threatened to overcome her, and to calm the frantic sobbing forcing its way up her throat, he finally lifted himself up, stamping on her forearm in the process, which made a sickening crunch under his weight. She felt a sharp, white pain, and vaguely heard a scream, but didn't register that it had, in fact, come from her, until the first boot connected with her abdomen.

He kicked her until she was curled in the corner, her bleeding body broken. Blood streamed down the open gashes on her arms and midriff, pooling into the uneven flooring. Her chest heaved, every movement sending shocks down her body. His voice sounded in her foggy mind, through the haze of pain and panic that had settled over her.

"I own you, and I will until the day you die. You are nothing. You are worthless." he spat.

With that, he turned on his heel, and glided out of the room.

**-oOo-**

**A/N: Thanks for reading, new chapter coming soon. Reviews would be appreciated!**


	2. Help Deceives The Innocent

**A/N: Next chapters up, second in a day! Warnings from first chapter still apply. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favorited! **

**-oOo-**

She lay there, stunned, in the minutes after his departure, as a blanket of despair at what had just happened smothered her senses, dulling the pain, and forcing tears to leak out of her bruised eyes down her swollen face.

She wandered if this was where she was going to die, on this cold, damp floor, covered only by her own blood. Alone. She didn't want to be alone. She thought about how they would react if they ever found out what had happened.

Rory's face, if he knew what that thing had done to her, would be unbearable. She dreaded the moment she would have to look into his eyes and see the shame, and the disgust, looking back at her. She was nothing, useless, sick- she didn't even stop him.

Trapped in her own disgust and despair, she let her mind numb the physical pain, and the harsh reality of the dark room outside. This morbid dampener didn't last long though, and after the initial shock, the pain and realisation came flooding back to her, every movement a razor blade; every breath agony.

She could feel herself slipping in and out of consciousness: the darkness threatening to overcome her at moments. Sounds became muzzier and more distant as the puddle of blood grew steadily around her. Amy didn't know much about blood loss- she left that type of thing to Rory- but she was pretty sure that if no one came soon, she would die.

She decided that she couldn't just go without seeing them again. She loved them, both: Rory and the Doctor. She needed them now, but they'd gone. Maybe, somehow, they had found out what had happened, and left in shame, not wanting to lay eyes on her now she was... Tainted. Used. The thought plunged her fuzzy brain back into the depths of despair, every sob wracking through her broken frame sending spasms through her body, and pulling her closer into the darkness' embrace.

She was so tired now; she just wanted to escape the mental torment, to accept the numbing dark...

A bang sounded in the corridor above, cascading down the stairs and echoing around the shadowy castle.

Amy jerked at the sudden noise, jolting her whole frame, sharp pains lacing through her like electricity. She drew in a sharp breath, bringing herself back from the numbing brink of unconsciousness and into the hands of the pain and the shameful, disgusting memories. Those were all she could think about for a long moment, but a persistent thought from her subconscious telling her that loud bangs usually meant trouble had fought its way through the thick fog in her head- and she was suddenly aware of loud coughing, then the best, sweetest thing she had ever heard;

"I do remember saying, quite clearly, we weren't going to use the gun powder!"

Amy could have cried then, hearing the Doctor- surely accompanied by Rory- again. She truly believed she would die before they found her. But they were here now; they had come to help her, to heal her, to make the pain go.

But then she remembered. They wouldn't want to help her after they knew what had happened. What she had let happen. They couldn't find her. She wouldn't let them. It was better for her to die knowing they still care, then to die having been abandoned by them after finding out what she had done- a look of disgust etched on their faces.

Two pairs of frantic footsteps echoed from the stairway, as Amy, panicking, quickly rolled over onto her side, into the stony wall, away from the light.

The movement sent white hot pain tearing through her screaming limbs and torso, and it was all she could do to keep from crying out. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her breathing speeding up, as sharp stabbing ripped through her like a knife. Blinding light flashed in front of her eyes, and it took all her power to cling onto consciousness- just to hear a couple more words from her boys.

"Rory, I'm sorry, but you should look at this."

"No. Oh, my god, no."

That was Rory, her Rory, Amy thought blearily as he talked, none of the meaning of the words registering in her brain.

If she had been more aware, she would have realised they had seen the sticky trail of thick blood. If she had been more alert, she would have panicked, realising that the blood led directly to her, like a sick arrow.

As it was, she just enjoyed the richness she had never noticed in Rory's panicked voice.

Footfalls neared, great thuds, shaking Amy's world- making her forget that these were her friends, as she was overcome with the memories. Panic shot through her, and she could only hope the arrival wouldn't hurt her too badly.

She heard a murmuring voice- but none of the words registered. Another pair of feet stomped over, and with a sinking feeling, Amy realised he had brought someone with him. This voice joined the other, and Amy moaned, despite herself.

Suddenly, hands were holding her, pulling at her, rolling her onto her back, and the panic she felt was doubled with the pain of being forced to move. It was too much for her, and she gasped; before crumbling into huge, rocking sobs.

The blurry shapes shifted above her, and she heard a faint murmuring, and suddenly someone was touching her face. Her heart hammered in her chest, her body jerking away from the hands. Moaning in pain, she pleaded for them not to hurt her again. The hands disappeared, and a gentle, soothing voice started talking.

Amy considered this for a moment, and finally, through her hazy state, she realised that she recognised the voice. It was an important voice, she remembered- a good voice. A kind voice. She focused through the involuntary sobs, and the blurry scene above her, on the voice, and what it was saying.

"Gone..." she made out.

She focused again, through the hazy, muzzy fog. "Not going to hurt you... safe..." And she believed it.

She broke down, not in panic, but in relief. A hand once again held her face, and stroked her hair, but this time she knew it to be a sign of comfort, gentle, soothing. She slowly relaxed, letting the calm and fuzziness envelope her once more.

As she gave in to the darkness, the nameless person spoke again, more urgently. She wished they would give her peace, but the voice- a quite important voice to her, she remembered- was persistent, a pair of hands pulling and prodding at her; before her mind smothered her from the outside world, and everything turned black.

She closed her eyes, and knew no more.

**-oOo-**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. Reviews are cool. **


	3. Soft Hands And Careful Whispers

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long, I've got a couple other stories in progress as well at the moment- all going to be published soon, so keep an eye out.**

**Thanks to everyone who Alerted and Favorited, and a special Thanks to all you cool people who Reviewed!**

**Same warnings as previously still apply.**

**-oOo-**

"Amy, oh, Amy!"

But even as he spoke, Rory could see that Amy wouldn't respond.

She was curled up on her side, facing away from the distraught man, her chest rapidly moving as she tried to breathe through the pain she was so obviously in. Rory wanted to shout, or be sick. What had done this to her?

He said her name again, willing for her to respond- but he was doubtful if the sound was even registering; or if she could answer if she tried.

Rory paled- if only they had persevered the first time they got into the castle, instead of getting sidetracked by what they now knew as mutant alien fish. Was it really necessary to get rid of them first?

_After Rory and the Doctor had broken in, they had be confronted with six vampire fish, presumably to scare them away, and the elusive Calvierri's son, Francesco, along with Signora Rosanna Calvierri herself._

_ But they were prepared for this._

_ While the Doctor fed them all a line, (something about a shadow proclamation) Rory had opened a sun roof or something similar, throwing a shaft of bright light onto the snarling vampires. With a sickening screech, they had burst into ashes, only Francesco managing to dodge the beams._

_ They had run then- with no back up plan and an angry vampire hot on their heels. It was a while later they had managed to gain access again- resorting to using gun powder to blow a hole in the side of the now presumably deserted building- much to the Doctor's annoyance. But they couldn't have left Amy any longer._

_ And after all their efforts, they were too late to save her._

Rory shook himself; there would be time to dwell on the past later. It was at this point the Doctor reached the pair, and caught sight of Amy. A sharp intake of breath was heard.

"Oh, Amy, I'm so sorry."

Rory looked at the older man, their pain filled eyes meeting in mutual grief. But they both knew that Amy needed help, and so forced their feelings away, and stayed strong for her.

"Amy? Amelia, can you hear me?"

The Doctor asked, softly. She whimpered slightly, sounding so scared, it broke Rory's heart. He took this as encouragement, though. It was good she could hear them, he told himself.

"Amy, me and the Doctor are going to move you onto your back. We need you to be brave for us, though." he told her, as calmly as he could manage.

He knew it would hurt her tremendously to be moved, but it would decrease the pain if she was lying on her back, and Rory could also assess the damage. There was no response from Amy, so they took this as an okay, and with one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder, and the Doctor ready to support her head, Rory rolled her.

She gasped, her breathing spiralling into hyperventilation, before great sobs escaped out of her mouth, rocking her broken body. However, both men were too shocked at the sight of Amy's beaten body for them to take action straight away.

Her night dress was ripped and bloodied, completely exposing her beaten frame. Blue and purple bruises blossomed over her very pail skin, her arms gashed and weeping blood, one sticking out at a very painful angle. Amy's face was nearly unrecognisable on one side, the back and blue bruises surrounding her left eye had swollen up so much that it was nearly closed.

Her stomach and thighs were the worst, though. Here, it was hard to see a patch of unbeaten skin- the bruises and gashes that covered her were so many. The floor around her was sticky with blood- and he didn't even imagine how much more the monsters had taken via her neck- the two pairs of puncture marks still trickled with blood.

Rory stared at her, helplessly, sorrowfully, as the Doctor gasped. He soothed her quietly, telling her it would be okay and took her face in his hands. She flinched slightly and moaned in pain, her voice grated and cracking.

"P-please, not... Ag-again!" she choked out, wide eyed and panicked, but her eyes were unfocused, as if seeing something other than them kneeling over her.

The Doctor quickly retracted his touch, his face alarmed and remorseful. Rory glanced at him, then spoke for the both of them.

"Its me, Amy. Its Rory and the Doctor. They're gone now. We're not going to hurt you. You're safe. You're safe."

Some of his words seemed to be understood, Amy once more breaking into tears, but not the panicked sobs they had heard before. Tentatively, Rory lent over and stroked her hair. She calmed a bit at this, and so he sat there for a while, murmuring comforting words, and stroking her face and hair.

After a while, the Doctors hands joined Rory's on her fiery hair, then moving to hover above her cheeks, as if worried that one touch would break her.

He decided against touching her face- seemingly resolving it would do more harm then good- and, with a sniff, placed a careful kiss in the air above her forehead. Rory glanced over at the older man, and was surprised to find tears shining in his eyes. It wasn't until salty water trickled onto his lips that Rory realised he, too, was crying. Quickly wiping away the tears, he turned back to Amy, whose eyes had glazed over, her stare becoming glassy.

"Amy, please, listen. You're safe now, you're with the Doctor and me. No one will hurt you again. You need to stay with us. Please."

His voice cracked on the last word, his emotions showing, as he willed Amy to stay conscious, and not to slip into the darkness. He doubted very much that she had a choice, though, when her glazed over eyes, staring past him, rolled back into her head, and fluttered shut.

"Amy? Please, don't sleep!" the Doctor pleaded- but it was already too late.

Rory looked at the man, desperation evident In his eyes, and spoke.

"As much as I don't want to move her, we have to. You have a medical bay on board the TARDIS, right, Doctor? We can use that."

He was trying very hard to play the nurse, to put Amy's well-being above the emotions he was feeling, but it was a hard battle. The Doctor looked at him distractedly, obviously having a struggle of his own, before focusing properly and replying. He, too, knew that now was not the time for the blame, regrets and questions that were threatening to break though.

They had to focus on Amy now.

"Okay, to the TARDIS then."

Almost as an afterthought, he quickly stripped off his tweed jacket and threw it to Rory.

"Use this to carry Amy in, it will be more comfortable for her and will stem the..."

He blanched.

"...Blood flow." he finished.

Rory nodded gravely, carefully rapping her up in the thick material, before gathering her body into his arms and straightening up, her head resting on his chest. With a sorrowful sigh, he started to walk.

**-oOo-**

**A/N: Review, the Doctor would.**


	4. Present The Truths And Run

**A/N: Ahh! So sorry for leaving this for so long. I really don't know what happened. Well, apart from the fact that I may just be the most lazy person on this earth. Anyway, thank you to returning readers for sticking by; hello new readers; and one million of the Doctor's man-child grins for everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favorited!**

**-oOo-**

Rory hurriedly carried Amy back to the TARDIS, the Doctor skittering ahead, babbling anxiously about a temporal stabiliser to Amy's semiconscious form; desperately trying to keep her awake.

She was clearly having trouble doing this: her eyes rolled into her head every minute or so, fluttering back open at the calling of her name. Rory was trying his hardest to carry her smoothly and gently; but every slight shift of his body elicited desperate moans from Amy.  
>It killed him to hear her making sounds like that.<br>He didn't think he'd ever hear a sound so desperate and vulnerable from anyone- especially not Amy- and he was a nurse, for god's sake.

The walk out of the castle was tense, Amy coming round in time to see the pools of blood she had left in the shadowy room; panicking- crying and thrashing in Rory's arms desperately.  
>They had to stop to calm her, and finally she was still- but sobbing distraughtly in Rory's embrace, muttering under her breath. She calmed marginally when they left the castle, shaky breaths slowing, and the convulsions stopping.<br>Both men were glad of this, but it was still as much of a concern as the earlier hysterics- Amy could easily slip into a coma or worse in her condition, and so the sudden calm that she was showing was cause for alarm.

It was with great haste that they had finally and hurriedly boarded the TARDIS; the doors opening with a snap of the Doctors fingers. He hurriedly led the way to the med bay, stopping only to push a few levers and buttons- sending them into orbit, and out of harm's way.

With that done, they hastily climbed the control room stairs (Rory more carefully than the Doctor) and walked through the corridors beyond, eventually reaching their destination.

The white walls of the med bay stretched out in front of them, with four hospital style beds at regular intervals along the right wall, and a huge cupboard filled with supplies and equipment (very little of it compatible with either human or Timelord) along the left.

There was a work top at the far end of the room, housing a sink, and another door leading to a bathroom next to it. Rory looked around quickly, surprised and glad that the Doctor was so prepared, before tenderly setting Amy down on the bed furthest from the entrance, next to the sink. Her eyes flickered behind her eyelids, her face crumpled and lined into a soft grimace in her sleep.

They quickly set about preparing various painkillers- one person could only take so much- and Rory set up an IV. It took a long time, stitching the cuts and gashes- but, after everything was done, there was no avoiding it any longer.

Rory had seen the damage; he knew enough to guess what had happened.

"Doctor-" he started, turning his head. The Doctor had been at his side through all of this. Now they needed to sort it out, to know why it had happened.

Dread dropped in Rory's stomach, a dead weight.

Amy had been raped.

And he didn't stop it.

Trembling, he looked back at Amy, deathly pale in the glow of the LED lights.  
>The shock hit him hard this time, legs giving way as he realised the devastating truth, and the full extent of the repercussions to come.<br>Strong arms caught him around the shoulders and guided him back to a bench, where he broke down in sobs, leaning helplessly into the Doctor.

"I could have stopped this. I could have stopped this!"

He turned to the Doctor then, his pain and remorse quickly turning to anger- at this man who threw them headlong into danger, and damn the consequences. But now Amy had been hurt- maybe beyond repair.

"You." he whispered dangerously, hot anger flashing through him, his emotions a sharp red haze. He raised a trembling finger, pointing accusingly.

"You sent her in there! YOU said she would be fine. YOU said she would be safe! Well, look, look what's happened now, Doctor. Amy was…" he swallowed. The word just wouldn't come out. He swallowed, angrier now. " BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU DID THIS! YOU!"

His words were out in a storm of anger and grief- and even as he was shouting them, he knew the words weren't for any fault of the Doctor's.  
>He was blaming the evil, disgusting man who did this; that school and its crazy fish vampires; himself.<p>

But not the Doctor.

And as he came back to himself, thundering over the Doctor, hand raised as if to hit him, he realised all this.  
>And he felt sickened.<br>But the worst thing- the most terrible thing- was how the Doctor was stood; cowering slightly away from him- but not angry. Not alarmed at the outrageous, hideous blame being pressed upon him, not furious at Rory for doing so.

Not even defending himself from the impending threat of Rory's fist. Just... Remorseful. Accepting. Understanding. And that ripped Rory's heart apart all over again- the fact that the Doctor actually believed all the harsh, cruel words he had spat.  
>That he actually thought he deserved them.<p>

He really did break down then- crumpling like a dead man into a heap on the floor, sobbing helplessly.

"Sorry," he croaked. "I'm so, so, sorry."

He lay there for several more seconds, body wracked with incontrovertible remorse. His medical mind was reasoning that it was probably shock making him do these things, but another, more cynical part of him scolded himself for being so completely helpless.

With one last shaky breath, he found his feet, and quickly ran out of the room. Amy would be unconscious for a while longer.

The Doctor would look after her.

He found the door handle and kept on running; down the length of the long, long corridor- down the next, and the next. Finally, when his lungs burned and his legs felt shaky, he kicked open the nearest door and sunk down the wall inside.

The door closed with a resounding bang.

Rory didn't even inspect the room- he just laid his head on his knees and cried.


End file.
